


To Be So Lonely

by ScentedBooks



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Uses His Words, Hes confused and then he figures it out, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jaskier sleeps with people for money, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, M/M, Nothing happens with it, Praise Kink, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sad Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Boys, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, it was lonely, nothing directly stated, slight daddy kink?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScentedBooks/pseuds/ScentedBooks
Summary: Jaskier continues to travel with Geralt of Rivia but he begins to feel as though he is not putting in the amount of effort needed to help them both travel comfortably. He decides to do what he believes will be best.Spoiler Alert - It's not.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Other(s)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 1233





	To Be So Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Please do heed the tags. Most of this is in Geralt's Pov for specific purposes.   
> This is something sad and soft. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy :) 
> 
> Talk to me:   
> scented-books
> 
> I'm also apart of a lovely (18+) Discord   
> https://discord.gg/YNf6chy

Jaskier walked idly next to Roach, humming to himself quietly as Geralt guided them both to the nearest town for the night. Their traveling becoming tedious as the sun set in the distance, grime and dirt caked into his pants, staining the pretty purple fabric, making him pout with defeat at ever getting that stain out. 

He continued to make comments at Roach, knowing that she would at least acknowledge him a bit more than Geralt would, pushing softly into his side as he rambled. His footsteps uneven to follow the waving of his arms. 

When they arrived at the inn, Jaskier’s feet hurt and all the bard could think about was the prospect of a bath, he even told Geralt this information.

To his surprise Geralt answered him and said in a gruff voice, 

“If you want to bathe, then the room will be smaller. We’re running low on coin.”

_Running low on coin?_

Jaskier shrugged offhandedly, knowing that at least if he sang tonight, he would bring in more coin for the next time that they stayed in an inn, hopefully big enough for the both of them. 

That night, Jaskier felt completely in his element. People were singing along with him and throwing coins at his feet. They were jostling each other and drinking their ale. After he had bathed, he had felt completely new and fresh. A newfound confidence stirring in his chest as he wiped the dirt off his face from their travels.

He wore a pair of shoes that had seen better days and the lack of sole made his feet ache as he danced around the room, his calloused fingers strumming his lute continuously.

Jaskier watched Geralt nod at him before going up the stairs, likely getting away from all the noise Jaskier was causing.

Silly Witcher.

He turned back around away from the stairs and continued his melodies as the sun went down and more patrons began to drink themselves into a stupor, flinging their coin around blindly.

Jaskier was not complaining.

As he came to the end of his performance, the sack hanging from his waist was full to the brim, shimmering and shaking with its weight. He had coin stuffed in his pocket and all over the floor.

Geralt was going to be pleased, he thought with a smug grin as his cheek’s pinked slightly from the thought.

Jaskier stood beside a table in the corner of the tavern and slowly began to put his lute away for the night, carefully setting it in the worn case and observing the strings that he would need to replace before he performed again for so long in one night.

As he clasped the case closed with a soft click, the money firmly inside the case for safe keeping, he felt a hand grasp his waist. A rough hand that was unfamiliar, and the person leaned into his personal space even more,

“Come back to my room with me bard?” the man’s voice whispered into his ear practically pressing himself up against Jaskier, pushing him into the side of the wooden table, “I bet you and I could have _so much_ fun.”

Jaskier let out a breath, “And if I say yes?” and turned his head around to attempt to glance at the person pressing into him and his eyes flicked over the mans face.

_I could do worse._ And shrugged to himself.

“If you say yes.” The man said looking into Jaskier’s eyes, his voice still quiet, “You’ll have enough coin to go wherever you want, looking your best.”

_Coin?_

He says yes.

After his lute is safely tucked away from those people who would run off with it, and he brings it to the safety of his Witcher’s room where the man likely pretends to not notice that Jaskier is there, he slips from the room quietly and follows to where the man waits for him. He had not even thought to give him his name, and the man had not given his.

The only thing Jaskier could think about on his journey to the room down the hall was,

“If I do this, Geralt will be _pleased._ ”

“We _need_ the coin.”

“I’m just having a little _fun_.”

Jaskier opens the door to the large room that the man is staying in. He clearly has enough money to stay in comfort where the location allows. The room overall is nice, boring but nice. As Jaskier looks around he can see that the man has been _waiting_ for him.

His bodies underneath the slim cover that is only meant for one person. His chest is on full display, what looks like sweat drips from his neck and runs down. There’s a bulge underneath the blanket and one of the man’s hands is still moving slowly, _up_ and _down_.

Preparing himself.

The sweat dripping down him has a purpose, and Jaskier smirks in retaliation. He knows exactly what to do here.

He does not get any closer to the man, not yet and begins to unbutton his doublet the rest of the way, never breaking the eye contact with the man taking advantage of his own pleasure. His bleak eyes searching over Jaskier’s exposed skin.

“Come over here bard.” The man rasps.

Jaskier swallows quietly and obeys, his old shoes sliding off his feet and he walks over quickly, his pants coming off at the edge of the bed before he climbs over him, straddling himself, legs on each side of the man’s hips.

In retaliation, the man grips his thighs, hard.

“Now little bard,” the man begins, his breath uneven but stern, “we’re going to have some fun.” He moves his hands up Jaskier’s waist and grips his hands to each side, flipping them around, “But were going to be doing this my way.”

_Oh fuck_.

\--

The next morning Jaskier wakes up feeling disoriented and groggy. He sits up slowly, his breath hitching slightly as he moves to look around the room and he sees that the man is thankfully nowhere to be found before turning his head to the table closest to him.

There’s a large sack sitting there, without even picking it up Jaskier can tell that it is _heavy_. The pain from the handprints bruised into his waist from the grip the man had on him as he _held_ him in place was momentarily forgotten as he went to move his legs to where they hung off the bed, ignoring the pained sensation from his lower half and opening the string from the bag.

He gasped to himself. There was so much coin. They would be comfortable for weeks, and Jaskier could go buy new shoes for himself and even Geralt if he wished.

Jaskier stood up slowly, his legs shaky and stiff still but excited to show Geralt the coin he received and began to put his clothes on in a careful manner before grabbing the bag and walking from the room, closing the door behind him and seeking out his Witcher.

But first, a bath.

\--

He found Geralt sitting at the same table he was sitting in the night before while Jaskier was performing. He was eating his breakfast, glaring at the plate before him silently, and looked up as Jaskier got closer to him and Jaskier sent him a bright smile, ignore the scrunched look that overtook his face, likely smelling the soap that Jaskier had scrubbed himself down with, making sure that he was clean from the night before.

He shivered at the thought and resisted checking his bruises to make sure that they were okay again. After he had gotten out of the bath, the small mirror in the room showed him the deep purples. He sighed and sat across from Geralt, electing to ignore it as he sat the bag of coin on the table.  
When the clinging of the coins hit the table, Geralt brought his attention from his food directly to the bag. His eyebrows moved slightly and a small barely their movement of his lips showed his appreciation.

“All of this is from last night?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier nodded with a slight blush on his face.

“Hm.” Geralt started, “Nice job Jaskier.”

Jaskier preened and the smile on his face got larger and the markings on his body, the slight painful sensation in his lower half was completely forgotten. 

Geralt was _pleased_.

He had made the right decision.

\--

When Jaskier had walked down the stairs the morning at the inn, Geralt had scented a small stench of pain that contradicted the excitement rolling off the bard in waves.

A confusing scent and he did not question the bard, considering he had no idea where the man even had gone the night before. He smelt of expensive soaps, and fresh linen.

The only scent that Geralt was confused about was the pained smell, soft and covered by other artificial smells, but still ever-present underneath it all.

It was not Geralt’s place to ask and the bard seemed happy as he made it to the table, so Geralt did not ask.

They left the inn that morning and Jaskier used some of the coin he received from his barding from the night before to buy himself some shoes. He handed Geralt some and told the Witcher to buy himself some, saying,

“You have had the same shoes on since we met, I’m honestly surprised you can even still wear them, now go.” And proceeded to shoo him away from where Jaskier was looking at jewelry, his eyes lingering on the rings longer than normal.

-

They move on and Geralt continues to watch as Jaskier brings in more coin than they have had in the last couple of years.

Every place they go, Jaskier is bringing coins to him in the mornings with a large smile on his face and a bag of coins. Each bag was a different size, barely ever overflowing, but enough to keep them both comfortable.

Geralt was thankful. So, he continued to tell him as much.

“You’re doing a good job.”

“They must really like you here.”

Jaskier gets flustered and red almost every time Geralt tells him these things. A shy look passes over his face, and the bard looks pleased every time, and any lingering scent of something other than excitement is shadowed over, and Geralt focuses on the bard’s smile.

Geralt starts thanking the bard quietly in the mornings when he looks tired, seemingly still tired from the night before. Geralt’s noticed over these last few months that Jaskier has been staying up so late that he barely comes back to their rented room, and always comes from somewhere else in the inn, sleeping somewhere else, just to get some sleep.

Nowadays, Geralt watches from the sidelines as Jaskier sings in a tavern, or in an inn about _him_. Telling tales and small lies about the journeys that they have just been on or much to Geralt’s dismay, sings ‘Toss a Coin’ that works with the crowd more than Geralt would like.

Tonight, the bards covered in jewelry. Rings on many of his fingers, golden and glistening. A chain hung itself down from his throat, the same bright color as the rings, matching his bright blue eyes perfectly. The one new addition to Jaskier’s obsession with jewelry was the _choker_.

It was black and thin and seated directly in the center of his throat. The only thing that related to its expensive nature was the yellow stone in the center, so different from what Jaskier would ever choose to wear for himself.

But it was the only thing lately that he never took off.

He had noticed it for the first time after Jaskier had come into the room late in the evening a few months back. 

He had not noticed Geralt was awake when he walked in the room and undid his doublet to reveal the shirt he was wearing underneath. Both of his arms were on full display as he walked to a chair by the window. The moonlight glowed and even though Geralt could see Jaskier before, the moonlight brightened his image. 

The choker was not a new thing, Geralt had been present when the bard bought it after all. Claiming it to be the best purchase he has ever made.  
His attention drifted down from the choker, towards the bard’s arm. The flesh was toned after years of travelling with Geralt but that is not what stood out.

There was a large bruise that Geralt could make out slightly with the lighting. He shifted in the bed and as he focused on the deep blue and purple that stared back at him, he made out a handprint engraved into his skin. 

Something that would only happen if Jaskier had been grabbed hard enough to bruise. It was a grasp of someone with an intention to hurt the bard, a possessive sneer curled up on his face in the darkness and Geralt spoke out loud in the quiet room,

“What happened to your arm?” He growled out startling Jaskier,

Jaskier spun around in the darkness to face him, a scared expression marking his face as he moved with his other and to cover the mark as much as possible. A soft hand curling around the skin, only allowing the yellow outline to be visible.

“I said something someone did not agree with, that’s all.” Jaskier stated, his heart beating so loudly that Geralt could hear its uneven tone.   
Geralt sat up from the bed and walked over to Jaskier and moved his hand out of the way to inspect the bruising,

“Hm.”

“It was just a misunderstanding.” Jaskier said suddenly and reached next to his shirt, and the small sack jingled next to his face, “See, they even apologized.”

“Hm.”

Jaskier brings his attention back to his face, looking slightly up at Geralt with an earnest expression, his heartbeat slowing down, “I’m okay.”  
Somehow Geralt does not believe him. The bruising on his arm looked to have been there for a couple of days before Geralt happened to see it, and Jaskier did not say anything.

He lets it go. 

\--

The long necklace that matches his blue eyes appears the next morning, it hangs delicately from their door. Jaskier gives the chain a small smile, like he’s forgiving it for something. 

Geralt decides that he does not like that necklace. 

He does not know why.

\--

Jaskier’s got a bruise on his face the evening that they decide to leave town early. It is not as embroidered as the hand was from his arm, but it was still a type of hit. Maybe a slap. Enough to leave a deep red forming into a soft blue, barely marking his face to the human eye.

He gives Geralt the same excuse as before while he strums his lute down as he walks beside Roach through the night. Only yawning every so often as they head to where Geralt is needed. Word of a basilisk creeping close to a town two days from them.

Geralt notices with a clenched fist that the original rings are gone, new ones sit in their place. 

\--

The basilisk was an easy beast for Geralt to handle, he sent Jaskier into the nearest tavern with instructions to stay there, and surprisingly the bard listened.

That night, Geralt looked over to where Jaskier was performing from his place in the back of the tavern. The man’s smile was infectious, brightening up the room from where he stood in the mass of people that were dancing and hollering, throwing coin onto the ground. Some were even brave enough to stick the golden coins into the already filled sack that was tied to Jaskier’s waist. 

His voice was travelling throughout the room, an even raspy tone coming into the lyrics every so often, but never becoming unsure. A sweet melody. One of his newest songs.

Lately, the bard scent has been soured, an old flavor that Geralt has not noticed in years. A sad loneliness of a smell, a hurt that sits deep into a person’s soul. 

But Geralt does not understand why as the bard sings and dances with flashy things hanging from his body. Beautiful golden chains and gems that gleam in the candlelight that cost more coin than a weeks’ worth of Geralt’s hunting monsters. 

So, he does not understand why the bard smells the way he does. His demeanor does not reflect the feeling that seeps deep within his clothes even after he has bathed for the evening. 

Geralt’s eyes continue to follow Jaskier’s form as he glides throughout the room, his song belting into the room with no hesitation, no fear. He is completely in his element. 

Geralt’s golden eyes shift when a man reaches to grab the bard. His hand was going to squeeze at Jaskier with intent. The look on his face is full of _want_ and _longing_. 

Right before the hand clutches Jaskier’s embroidered sleeve, the man’s voice falters. His entire body flinches with the possibility of the man even almost touching him. His scent bordered onto completely undiluted _fear_ before simmering into something less intense. 

It only lasts for a moment, and the gleam in the other man’s eyes falters but his want is ever present in his face. 

And Jaskier starts singing again, his voice coming back to its fullest force, his body sauntering to the far side of the room. 

A smile presently back on his face. 

Geralt does not understand. 

\--

It only takes Geralt two more days to figure it out.

A rage boils deep in his gut at the bard’s actions. Not against Jaskier himself, but the things that have surely been done to the man while Geralt did _nothing_. Knew nothing of what the bard was getting up to in these past months. If Geralt was correct, it had almost been a year since this began.

He felt disgusted with himself.

Sitting at the tavern that night, watching the man close. The scent of sadness in his bones made since. Geralt could not believe he never noticed.  
The desire that follows Jaskier like the plague. Men and women always wanting to touch him and get close. So close that Geralt wonders if Jaskier is breathing his own air when he performs. When he walks around, playing his instrument, a _fake_ smile dawning his face.

The bard had this look of deep and everlasting longing in his gaze that seemed to empty to Geralt’s eyes. Something that was once full of life, proud of dancing and using his voice for the mere thought of happiness, has turned into an empty vessel of what was once benevolence but now seeps into a callous disguise of undiluted sadness.

This performance hides what the bard has been doing right under Geralt’s nose for months.

All of this coin has been appearing out of thin air, while the bard is popular, and people adore him. Jaskier is creating adoration for the wrong types of people.

People who would not hesitate to hurt him. People who have not hesitated to physically injure him. It makes Geralt’s fist clench until his knuckles turn white, and his nails dig into the skin as he thinks about all of the things that he missed, all of the _pain_ and the _injuries_ that he did not see, and the lies he foolishly believed. 

He is going to fix this, -- and he is going to do it the right way. 

\--

Geralt liked to think that he was not an idiot.

He fucked up, royally fucked up by giving Jaskier the thing that he absolutely desired without thinking of the entire story of the reasonings behind what the man was doing.

He had listened when Jaskier spoke on their travels about his childhood. The lack of attention and affection in his household. A surprising factor for someone so full of everything all at once. He was a package that came packed full with emotion, that filled his life with pretty words and a lovely voice. A man that never made him feel anything but welcome, someone who turned Geralt of Rivia, Butcher of Blaviken, in the White Wolf.

People did not cower away or run him out of town anymore.

It was all because of a bard, who grew up without any affection. Who craved validation and just wanted to feel like he belonged.

Not a _burden_.

Jaskier, _Julian_ just wanted to know that he was doing good. Geralt had told him so. Unfortunately for the wrong reasons that he was unaware of. 

He had to be careful with this.

He had to make sure that Jaskier was not going to get the wrong idea, that gods forbid, -- Geralt was _disappointed_ in him.

That would not do.

As he remembered the man speaking about his childhood, he knew that specific word would not be beneficial. As his father had told Jaskier, _repeatedly_ , until his death that he was _disappointed_ in him for multiple bullshit reasons. Leaving his family, going to Oxenfurt, and becoming a bard. Travelling around the continent with a _Witcher_. All these things were written in letters that Geralt had watched Jaskier burn in fires that they had lit to keep them both warm in the night, back when Geralt was not anything but mean to the bard. 

He regretted that as much as he regretted what had been happening because of his encouraging words. What he did not regret was listening to Jaskier while he rambled, in sober and drunk situations. 

This extreme strive from validation for Jaskier may have started when he was young, but it is something that has never left the man. This unrelenting desire to feel wanted and falling in love with everyone he meets that gives him the slightest time of day. The vile stench of sadness and longing when a person does not stay, or when he gets rejected.

Geralt had noticed all of that. 

So, he had to be careful. 

\--

It starts with getting Jaskier a gift. Something small that replaces the necklace that Geralt now _despises_ that hangs low, down into the depths of his shirt. A blue stone that matches his eyes, something that represents a false sense of security.

Geralt wants to crush it in his hands.

While Jaskier is taking a bath, he tells the bard through the door that he will be back in a couple of days. He makes the man promise to keep himself safe. When Jaskier agrees he responds with a soft,

“That’s _good_.” And leaves to go find Yennefer.

When he finds her, she gives him a surprisingly harsh look when he explains what has been going on and reaches into a small drawer next to where she was seated and hands him a bag. A little thing that fits in the palm of his hands.

She huffs and gestures for him to open it.

It’s beautiful and very clearly filled with magic. Purple stones dashed with bright clean white splatters circle around the entire time. Not one piece of the chain is visible, completely covered in the stones.

It is _Amethyst_. It carries the energy of passion, creativity and spirituality. A perfect replacement for the meaningless chain around the bard’s neck.  
He gives Yennefer a soft thanks when he kicks him through the portal. 

The next morning, he wakes Jaskier up from the room he is sleeping in and ignores the obvious implications as sky blue eyes blink at him owlishly.

“I got something for you.” Geralt murmurs, “But you have to trade me for it.”

Jaskier sits up quietly from his place on the bed and continues to look at him in confusion, “Trade you what?” he asks, voice groggy from sleep.

“That.” Geralt gestures at the chain hiding beneath his shirt, and holds up the small bag, “And you can have this.”

Jaskier’s face changes from confusion to excitement in a swift movement as he reaches to grab the chain and basically throws it in Geralt’s direction and takes the bag from him and opens it quickly, only pausing when he sees what’s inside and grabs it softly, revealing the new necklace in silence.

“Do you like it?”

Jaskier looks from the necklace and back up to Geralt with misty eyes and Geralt continues, “I had Yennefer make it for you, it’s a gift, -- for you.”

Geralt ignores as Jaskier blinks away tears, “I love it.”

Geralt gives Roach an entire bag of carrots when she stomps the necklace into pieces into the ground.

\--

The most important portion of this plan in Geralt’s opinion is Jaskier _staying_ in the room that they rented from the inn and _sleeping_ there.

He tells Jaskier, “There’s a bath in our room, I bought some of those oils you like, come upstairs when you are done, and it will be ready.” Geralt looked at him sternly, “Okay?”

Jaskier retaliated with a confused expression and his hand twitched slightly at his side, “Okay?”

“Good.” Geralt said with a small smile, recognizing that Jaskier is _nervous_ as his hands flick into a rhythm with no instrument to play, “You are doing a great job tonight.”

Jaskier flushes all over and he smiles, “I’ll be up in a bit.”

Geralt kind of feels bad about that one as he walks up the stairs and into their room, but he is doing a good job.

He walked into where the tub sat and started to keep the water warm with a jolt of Igni and lights the candles Jaskier likes, while making the room smell of different aromas that Jaskier seemed to like.

He was in the bedroom when he heard the door to their room open and turned around to see Jaskier standing there.

“Your baths ready.” Geralt stated, “Everything should be in there.”

“Okay...” Jaskier answered, walking towards the other room, putting his lute case down on the floor.

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” Geralt surprised himself by asking, and got a funny look from Jaskier before he chuckled a bit and answered,

“Sure, why not?”

Geralt was better at this stuff than he thought, Vesemir and his brothers would be laughing their asses off at his actions, he just cannot bring himself to care right now.

Not when Jaskier smiles at him like that.

He walks into the room after Jaskier is submerged by the water. He sees all the jewelry sitting on the table off to the side. Each ring and the choker sitting by themselves, he catches a glance and the necklace Geralt gave him is still on his body.

Geralt smiles softly and grabs the soap nearest him and runs his fingers through Jaskier’s wet hair and he sighs softly,

“What has gotten into you Geralt of Rivia?” Jaskier teases after a moment, peaking his eyes open, “Some people might think you like me, acting like this.”

Geralt hmms, “You should know by now that I do like you Jaskier.”

Jaskier eyes Geralt critically as he continues to run soap through his hair. Large fingers detangling the strands as he goes, so that it will look decent in the morning. He grabs a bowl to rinse Jaskier’s hair and he sees the man’s eyes widen as he pours the water into his hair, gently getting all the soap out.

“You know.” Jaskier suddenly states, his face pale.

Geralt stiffens for a moment as Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut tight, before he forces himself to relax again and continues to rinse the bard’s hair,

“Stay with me tonight.” Geralt whispers as tears fall down the bards face, “Sleep in here with me.”

When Jaskier does not say anything, Geralt grabs each side of his face from his place behind him and tilts his head so that he can see him. Jaskier’s still silently crying,

“Please.”

Jaskier gives him a small watery smile, “Geralt of Rivia, saying please – How could I ever say no?”

When they are laying down, Jaskier hiccups through a small sob and tells Geralt that he is sorry as he squeezes his eyes shut and more tears fall. Geralt wipes them away with his finger before telling Jaskier to lay down.

“There’s nothing you need to be apologizing for.” Geralt states.

“But –“ Jaskier starts as Geralt cuts him off and pulls him close,

“You did not do anything wrong.” Geralt kisses the top of his head and Jaskier gasps, “Now go to sleep little lark.” 

****************

It’s months later, and It’s late in the evening when Geralt feels Jaskier stir next to him. They lay together in the darkness as Geralt senses Jaskier become fully awake, his heartbeat is steady. Geralt stares with constant awareness, taking in the details of Jaskier’s face and body, a clear canvas, opening his eyes to stare back at him.

A piercing blue gaze and a soft smile.

Jaskier lifts himself up slowly, taking his time as Geralt watches him move, his lean muscles shifting as he turns to face Geralt before he leans forward and engulfs Geralt in a soft but deep kiss, his answering groan encouraging Jaskier farther.

Jaskier pulls at Geralt’s arms a small whine escaping as he moves Geralt over on top of him. A sure move that Jaskier wants this but Geralt murmurs softly into the darkness,

“Are you certain little lark?”

Jaskier huffs, “I would not have done this if I was not sure…” he pauses, “but yes, I’m certain. I want this, I want _you_.”

They are wrapped completely in one another from that moment. Geralt preps Jaskier with a calm comforting slowness that makes Jaskier moan and writhe with pleasure. Ensuring that he is ready, not wanting to risk hurting him in any way.

Once Jaskier is breathlessly demanding that he is ready, Geralt pushes into Jaskier with a slowness that makes both men groan.

“So _good_.” Geralt grinds out into Jaskier’s ear as he stretches loosely around him, “You’re doing _so good_ for me.”

Geralt lifts up slightly to bring his lips back to Jaskiers, stealing the moan that was leaving the bard’s mouth as Geralt starts to move.

He shifts and moves, bringing a pace that they both can enjoy. Jaskier starts to move with him, chasing the feeling with his body, whines falling from his lips as he thrusts. His mouth finds Geralts once again and laces one of their hands together. His fingers gripping tightly.

“So perfect _Jaskier_ , so good.” Geralt rumbles out between thrusts and opens his eyes to look at Jaskier’s face beneath him.

Tears are running down Jaskier’s skin and into the pillow beneath him, dampening the fabric.

_No_ It runs through Geralt’s mind in a fury, _I’ve hurt him, I’ve made him cry_. 

He hears Jaskier chuckle through the tears running down his face, “Don’t look at me like that, you are _not_ hurting me.” His chuckle dies and he takes a breath in to calm himself down, “This is just, -- the first time in ... -- you are _everything_.”

Geralt sits his hand on Jaskier’s face softly and Jaskier speaks again, “Don’t you dare stop.”

He smiles at him and moves his hips down once more, and Jaskier gasps and squeezes him tightly. The tears slow down and they continue to wrap themselves around each other. 

\--

Jaskier and Geralt are staying in Redania, a kingdom that holds a large portion of Jaskier’s past, including Oxenfurt. Her majesty the Queen, requested that Jaskier – the White Wolfs bard to come play for her at her latest ball, a ball in celebration of her son’s latest conquest. 

He accepts before the man sent to tell Jaskier even finishes telling him. A captivating smile full of confidence on his face.

Geralt watches Jaskier with an expression of fondness as the bard dances and sings around the ballroom. The man wears his newest attire. An outfit full of pinks and purples, angling his waist to look slimmer, and pants that hug his skin that make Geralt stare.

He knows that the bard does it on purpose, while he sends him sly smiles and winks in his direction throughout the performance, making the Queen chuckle in her seat.

No one tries to touch Jaskier.

They know better.


End file.
